My husband walked in the door with a smile after having taken our middle child to an appointment, and I was just turning off the water at the kitchen sink. As it made a gurgling sound going down the drain I dried my hands on a striped towel and deposited a kiss on my husband’s lips.

“Hey babe!” I said, then I leaned against the counter nonchalant.

He walked into the tidy living room to lay down his phone, but quickly returned with incredulous eyes.

“How did you get so much done with the baby here?” He asked in surprise. “Has she been upstairs this whole time?”

I heard the tiny feet overhead that sounded like a trampling elephant.

“No,” I answered. “She just now went up there.”

Then I proceeded to share how I had given her and her sister a bath, dressed her, and fed them. I explained about kissing booboos and giving attention while also loading the washing machine and dishwasher.

“I guess I’m just good at multitasking,” I answered.

He nodded agreement, but his facial expression still radiated awe.

I smiled satisfied.

There’s a lot of things I feel like I’m pretty good at. I feel like I’m an above average nurse for my patients, and I like to think I’m a good friend and sister when people need me. I’m a decent writer, and I even learned I have some valuable leadership skills when I started my own business a couple of years ago. Despite feeling many days like I’m a failure at motherhood, when my kids run to me excitedly with love in their eyes after I get home from work, I realize I’m a good mom. My husband tells me I’m a great wife, and his silence as he scarfs down supper tells me I’m a skilled cook. Of all the many hats I wear I realize one thing holds them all in harmony. My superhero strength of multitasking. All women have it, I think. It’s like it’s coded specifically into our DNA.

Recently my husband has been able to spend more time home with our children. He’s gotten more involved in their homeschooling and the day-to-day business that is running a house. I think he’s always known my job at home was a full one, but I’m not sure he realized just how difficult it can be to get it all done. The fact is, you don’t. You just do what you can. Recently I was at work at the hospital and I received a text from him.

I will do my best to fill your shoes around here today, but you may have to bear with me since it’s kind of new to me still. You are my best friend, lover, and partner in this wonderful life God has given us and I just want you to know you are very appreciated by me 😘

His words proved to me that he saw me, he saw how hard I worked around the house, and he acknowledged that he couldn’t do it like me. So many times women want to be able to do all the things that men can do, but in that they lose sight of all the things they can do that men cannot. Women have unique talents that set them apart, multitasking being a big one. We are usually, natural nurturers, and we hold a compassion level and emotional connection with others that cannot be compared. We see problems and the world around us from a wise and distinctive perspective, and we’re typically excellent planners and solvers. For me, it’s nice to be able to work outside of the home, but it’s also wonderful to be appreciated for the work I do at home. I’m blessed my husband sees my success in both arenas.

He may not ever be able to multitask around the home like I do, and that’s ok. I wouldn’t want him to be like me because then he wouldn’t be the special man he is. Some things women just do better than men, and it’s ok to be proud of that. We as women should be proud of who we are as human beings. We are definitely fearfully and wonderfully made!

If you’re one of those former homecoming queens who looks back on your high school existence with stars in your eyes then I’m happy for you, but that’s not me. Or rather it wasn’t me. I was probably the girl standing on the sidelines looking longingly at the crown, just wishing to touch the skirts of high school royalty. Just being honest. I wasn’t happy with me, and I looked to others to validate my feelings of worth. I never quite fit in. I didn’t have a clique. I was a cheerleader, but simply because I tried so hard to find my niche. I was smart, but didn’t really fit in with the brainy girls. I was in all the clubs, but never quite found myself in the realm of popularity. In actuality I was the outcast, the girl always trying really hard to fit in, but somehow always falling short. That was high school in a nutshell for me, and it was utterly exhausting.

As I grew older I became more comfortable in my own skin. I started to see my peculiar character traits for what they were. They were me. Those crazy quirks were what made me, me, and I was totally cool with that. Yet sometimes that young, insecure girl still waited in the wings, longing for acceptance amongst her female peers. And though I saw her less and less since I had entered my thirties, occasionally when I found myself around a group of women I floundered along as I searched for my particular rhythm that made me who I was meant to be, not who I thought I should be.

Recently I spent a week around women I work with, and though I’ve become way more comfortable in my own skin since I was a teenager, there’s something about spending time in the company of other females that leaves me feeling as if I’m lacking. I wouldn’t even say it’s due to any action on their part. It’s just my insecurities. It’s my longing to be well-liked. Am I the only woman like this? Am I the only woman who wishes she wasn’t quite so weird?!

Somehow when I hang out around a bunch of women for an extended period of time I always end up feeling like I’m back in high school. It’s like cheerleading camp all over again, and the cool, pretty girls have short-sheeted my bed again. One is telling me to put on some makeup already, and another is rolling her eyes behind my back while simultaneously trying to be nice to me since her mom is making her. In those moments of realization that, “yes, Brie, you’re still a square peg,” I have to talk myself off the ledge of insecurity and remind myself of what really matters.

God made me exactly as I am.

So while I do think a lot of my longing for acceptance is due to my upbringing, past rejections in life, and more nurture than nature, for the most part my personality is what it is because God made me to be me. I am a square peg, but then again, God designed me with the perfect square hole in mind. He created me overly sensitive so I might better empathize with my fellow man. He made me not quite like the rest so I could stand apart and better visualize the world around me. I may not fit into this world, but whoever said that’s a bad thing? The important part is this.

I am made in His image.

Genesis 1:27

So God created man in his own image, in the image of God he created him; male and female he created them.

Whenever I feel less, because sometimes I will, it’s best to remember in whose image I am created.

Although I am more comfortable with myself, and I do love being me, I’m also human. And sometimes I’ll feel like I’m not enough. In those moments I am best reminded of my heritage. I am best reminded for whom and after whom I was designed.

Whenever I feel like I’m not good enough, smart enough, successful enough, or even enough.

Whenever I think I’m a failure as a mother, a failure as a wife, a failure as a nurse, a failure as a friend, or even a failure as a Christian.

When I feel unworthy, unlovable, or even expendable.

When I feel like I don’t fit in, I don’t measure up, and there’s no way I can even keep up.

I can’t count on my fingers and toes how many times my husband has said, “but does that really matter,” or something similar. That man is like a calm shelter in my crashing storm of anxiety, and so many times I wish I could be more like that. But the fact remains, I am not.

My female brain is a tasking one, and when I sit still there’s often times a little voice that shouts out from the recesses of my mind, what are you doing?!

What about the laundry? Nobody will have clean underwear!

Look at that dust! No one will keep this house clean but you.

You should spend time reading to your kindergartener. Her growing vocabulary is your responsibly, you know.

You need to make time for a date night with your spouse. Keeping the flame alive is your job as the wife.

Have you texted encouraging scripture to your girlfriend today? You know she’s going through a tough time.

You missed Bible Study last week. Don’t miss it this week. They need you there.

And on, and on, and on.

I imagine when my husband sits down on the couch there is only one thing on his mind.

This feels nice, Ben. You deserve this after a long, hard week at work.

And while I’d agree with his relaxed mindset in that he does deserve the break, I wonder why I don’t give myself the same consideration. Why do I expect more of myself than anyone else. After all, the kids don’t care about matching socks and making certain the sofa cushions aren’t askew (which is my constant, fruitless battle).

I recently commented after my husband came home, “I’m sorry I haven’t gotten the girls’ summer clothes put away yet,” as I sheepishly eyed the precarious pile in our living room chair.

And he replied, “why are sorry? Who cares? Not me. It’s not a big deal, you know.”

I realized it wasn’t to him, and maybe even if it was important to me, did I give it excess merit because I felt I owed more to those around me? My husband didn’t mind piles of clothes marring our den, and the children probably didn’t even notice. What was it about a woman that did?!

It seems that women are doers, and we hold ourselves to a higher standard than anyone else. We want a respectable job, a clean home, well-dressed, good-mannered children, and a body that doesn’t look like we birthed babies from it. We want everything just so, with i’s dotted and t’s crossed. We like our boxes checked and our to-do’s crossed out. And when one of the above gets off kilter we get a little twitchy. I personally get a little witchy, or even another descriptive that rhymes.

I worry about time and schedules, and getting things done. I become anxious over what is in essence not a big deal at all. It builds into frustration and typically falls into anger, which leads to regret and the awful but expected, “I’m a bad mom rap.” I fall asleep praying I can do better in the morning, not remembering the fact that I did pretty good.

I assume I accomplish nothing when in fact I complete so much, and in my efforts to do more than is even reasonable I neglect the truth about what I achieve on a daily basis. And the only person who suffers from this is me. Cause at the end of the day the children are playing, my husband’s relaxing, and I’m still trying to tie up loose ends.

Today as I swept toast crumbs covered in peanut butter off my kitchen table into my hand, and for a moment my mind started to see red over the mess, I was jolted quickly into a calm. Instead of the typical anxiety over if I’d have enough time to finish our homeschool lesson, pick up the babysitter for an evening away from home, and change out three children’s seasonal wardrobes, I just let it all go. I let it all go for a second as a voice inside my head whispered, you got a pretty good life you know.”

And I did. That was the thing. My life was amazing. It was abundant and full, and how I chose to decipher that fullness was completely up to me. I could consider it as stress, or I could count it all as a gift. A goodness gracious gift of an abundant life. What’s so stressful about that, really?

So I don’t weigh what I did before I had the baby.

Who cares? I have an amazing baby!

So my house is a cluttered, chaotic monster puking up doll parts and mix-matched socks.

Does it really matter? It’s busting at the seams with love!

I cannot complete a single thing. Ever!

One day I will look around my pristine, dust-free house and be totally bored.

As a woman I can often times become anxious over things that do not matter in the grand scheme. That’s not to say men don’t become anxious also, as my husband holds his own concerns and worries running a business and providing for his family, but as constant movers and multitaskers women can become overly anxious about issues beyond our control. As sensitive, emotional creatures we can worry too much about what others think. As caretakers and nurturers we can give too much of ourselves towards people pleasing. And we are consumed by anxiety, worry, and stress.

The only solution I have found for this is the kind of blasé faire attitude that usually annoys me about men. Just being honest. But if I can take that indifferent attitude and make it more carefree I’m getting somewhere. If I can remind myself to ask at every turn, is this really important? To ask myself honestly, is this really worth me getting upset about? I mean, my life is pretty awesome.

Then perhaps I won’t let anxiety win. Perhaps I’ll even go sit on the couch, ignore the pile of laundry, and say, This feels nice, Brie . You deserve this after a long, hard week at work.

I found myself sitting on the couch this evening trying to relax. Other than a simple supper I had planned, and of course my continuous chore of taking care of children, there wasn’t much left for me to do. Laundry was completed, even folded and put away. The kitchen was clean, and the rest of it could wait. With the reality of a free Friday night ahead I should have felt relief. But I didn’t. I felt burdened.

I sat in this unwelcome spirit of worry and began to pray. Why? Why do I feel this way?

I opened my Bible and felt drawn to Psalm 23. It was a psalm I was familiar with, after all I prayed a portion from it many a work morning when I stood in the hot shower spray.

Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. (Verse 4)

This verse had always served me well, reminding me that fear wasn’t necessary when I trusted in my shepherd.

The beginning of Psalm 23 hit me like a lightning bolt, jolting me aware. You see, the past week or two had found me in a flurry of activity. My mind had been submerged in the conundrum that is selling a home. In the midst of packing, preparing for a move, and all the logistics that entails, I had also started a new semester of homeschooling for my daughter. In between filling out contracts and real estate paperwork I had found myself thinking and praying hard for a sick loved one. And all this while I was 6 months pregnant.

To get to this point today of sitting motionless on the couch I knew had not come easy. I had been less than thrilled during our homeschool lesson. I had been short with my children, and I’m pretty sure I had not been the friend and support system to my extended family that they deserved me to be. I had been an unpleasant person, stressed and uncomfortable.

And as I sat silently reading God’s word the verses above jumped out at me. He wanted me to lie down in green pastures. He desired to lead me beside quiet waters. He loved to refresh my soul. I felt like I had all these things I needed to do, but in reality I lacked nothing.

So often as women we have not just a full plate, but an overflowing plate! If we’re still we’re almost uncomfortable. If we’re not stressed out we feel like we haven’t accomplished anything, and I don’t know about you, but I’m my own worst enemy when it comes to that. I’m the first to say, “I haven’t done a thing today,” when in reality I have accomplished much.

But God would say, “you have done enough. You are enough.”

As women we often base our worth on how many tasks we can check off the list, and we feel good when we do a lot. But there’s more to life than staying busy and getting it all done. Sometimes the most important things in life are completed by not moving, but instead by being completely still.

We accomplish the most for our souls when we take a rest in His presence, sit at His feet, and allow Jesus to renew our spirit. When we let Him lead us to still waters and refresh our soul.

And the good news continues as we read the remainder of Psalm 23.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. (Verse 5)

Despite all the things that can and will go wrong in my day, or the people who try to come against me, the fact remains that He protects me and mine. Heck, He feeds me right in front of them. And He even feeds me to the point of abundant fullness. Now that’s a full plate I can handle!

Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. (Verse 6)

Many times when you busy yourself with the everyday tasks of life you forget that you’re not alone. You feel stressed as if you carry this weight on your own narrow shoulders. I know I do. And that’s why it’s important to stop. Stop and listen to God’s truth.

His truth says we are never alone. It whispers, “my love follows you everywhere, in every trial and situation.” It cements the fact that we dwell with Jesus forever.

As I sat still on my couch I finally allowed the rest of myself to be still also. I quieted my worries, and I released my pent-up anxieties and stress to The Shepherd. And I allowed Him to comfort me just as He had intended all along.

I found myself sitting on the couch this evening trying to relax. Other than a simple supper I had planned, and of course my continuous chore of taking care of children, there wasn’t much left for me to do. Laundry was completed, even folded and put away. The kitchen was clean, and the rest of it could wait. With the reality of a free Friday night ahead I should have felt relief. But I didn’t. I felt burdened.

I sat in this unwelcome spirit of worry and began to pray. Why? Why do I feel this way?

I opened my Bible and felt drawn to Psalm 23. It was a psalm I was familiar with, after all I prayed a portion from it many a work morning when I stood in the hot shower spray.

Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. (Verse 4)

This verse had always served me well, reminding me that fear wasn’t necessary when I trusted in my shepherd.

The beginning of Psalm 23 hit me like a lightning bolt, jolting me aware. You see, the past week or two had found me in a flurry of activity. My mind had been submerged in the conundrum that is selling a home. In the midst of packing, preparing for a move, and all the logistics that entails, I had also started a new semester of homeschooling for my daughter. In between filling out contracts and real estate paperwork I had found myself thinking and praying hard for a sick loved one. And all this while I was 6 months pregnant.

To get to this point today of sitting motionless on the couch I knew had not come easy. I had been less than thrilled during our homeschool lesson. I had been short with my children, and I’m pretty sure I had not been the friend and support system to my extended family that they deserved me to be. I had been an unpleasant person, stressed and uncomfortable.

And as I sat silently reading God’s word the verses above jumped out at me. He wanted me to lie down in green pastures. He desired to lead me beside quiet waters. He loved to refresh my soul. I felt like I had all these things I needed to do, but in reality I lacked nothing.

So often as women we have not just a full plate, but an overflowing plate! If we’re still we’re almost uncomfortable. If we’re not stressed out we feel like we haven’t accomplished anything, and I don’t know about you, but I’m my own worst enemy when it comes to that. I’m the first to say, “I haven’t done a thing today,” when in reality I have accomplished much.

But God would say, “you have done enough. You are enough.”

As women we often base our worth on how many tasks we can check off the list, and we feel good when we do a lot. But there’s more to life than staying busy and getting it all done. Sometimes the most important things in life are completed by not moving, but instead by being completely still.

We accomplish the most for our souls when we take a rest in His presence, sit at His feet, and allow Jesus to renew our spirit. When we let Him lead us to still waters and refresh our soul.

And the good news continues as we read the remainder of Psalm 23.

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. (Verse 5)

Despite all the things that can and will go wrong in my day, or the people who try to come against me, the fact remains that He protects me and mine. Heck, He feeds me right in front of them. And He even feeds me to the point of abundant fullness. Now that’s a full plate I can handle!

Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever. (Verse 6)

Many times when you busy yourself with the everyday tasks of life you forget that you’re not alone. You feel stressed as if you carry this weight on your own narrow shoulders. I know I do. And that’s why it’s important to stop. Stop and listen to God’s truth.

His truth says we are never alone. It whispers, “my love follows you everywhere, in every trial and situation.” It cements the fact that we dwell with Jesus forever.

As I sat still on my couch I finally allowed the rest of myself to be still also. I quieted my worries, and I released my pent-up anxieties and stress to The Shepherd. And I allowed Him to comfort me just as He had intended all along.

No one likes a good laugh more than myself, and I’m pretty laid back on most things. I enjoy a joke or two about the differences in men and women, and I laugh at most of the ones I see. But I think sometimes these little funny things we see are taken more seriously than a simple meme, and the majority of women will shake their head in agreement at some statements as if they are the gospel truth of matrimony.

Over the years, even before such a thing as social media, certain false phrases passed among women have been taken as good advice, and I think these misconceptions end up hurting marriage relationships. The fact is Satan hates marriage, and what better way to conquer it than from the inside.

Here’s what I mean. Have you ever heard a wife proclaim that her husband is her other, older child? Maybe you’ve seen a similar phrase on an ecard passed around Facebook. Maybe you’ve said it yourself. Perhaps it just seems like a good laugh to be had in solidarity among women, but my question to you is this. Do you unconsciously, or even consciously, believe this is true?

Here’s another I’ve heard before. “Men are like puppies. You got to train ’em.”

Heck, I even remember saying myself, in the past, “You gotta take ’em from their momma and raise ’em up right!”

You’re laughing, right? Okay, it’s funny I suppose, but when does it no longer become a laughing manner? How about when you begin to treat your spouse like a child? Is that really the recipe for a solid marriage?

As a woman we desire certain things. We like to feel needed, we like to feel like we are appreciated, and we like to feel like we hold a useful, important role in the relationship. Well, that’s fair. There’s nothing wrong with desiring respect for the effort and work you put into a life with someone. But what if I told you men aren’t that much different?

Like women, men also desire to feel useful. They desire to feel like they hold a crucial role in the relationship that no other person can fill. They have an ego, much like women, that requires adequate stroking to maintain a healthy confidence level and contentment in the partnership.

So, when you treat your husband like a child instead of a man you are sufficiently taking away his manhood. You are taking away his role in the marriage. Your repeated conversations of speaking down to him and chastising him like he’s a kid deserving of a timeout will break any confidence he has to be the strong man he needs to be for the family. If you treat your husband like a child then expect to have him act like one. After all, if you can’t beat ’em, then join ’em. Congratulations. You now really do have another child, but it’s one that you have created.

Or perhaps think of it this way. Let’s say he’s a puppy needing to be trained. If you treat a man like a dog then you shouldn’t be surprised when he acts like one. Rather, treat a man with respect and he will in turn give you the same.

Men don’t need another mother. They have one of those. Men don’t need someone to take care of them. Deep down men desire to take care of their family, but as women we must allow them that freedom. We must cultivate that trait in them, not severe it.

As women we can speak on a level platform with our spouses. We can talk to them in a way that conveys our desires for them without telling them what to do. It takes practice, but it’s possible. And these types of conversations aren’t manipulations, but rather they are communication. They’re conversations where you speak to your partner in a way that lifts them up, not one that tears them down.

As women we don’t like to get told what to do. We don’t enjoy being told we’re wrong. In fact, we’ll deny such blasphemy. Wink, wink. But seriously, as a wife we don’t like being talked down to, or made to feel like a servant. Well, men aren’t much different, once again.

A husband needs a wife who treats him like a man, not a child. He needs a wife who desires to share the responsibility with him, not “do it all so it’s done right.” A husband needs a wife who treats him like the man she loves and respects, not an animal that can be trained to do her bidding. A husband needs a wife, not a mother.

As women we talk incessantly about what we need from our man, but I wonder if we ever stop and think, “are we cultivating those traits we desire, or are we killing them?” If you want a strong man then treat him like a strong man. If you want a provider then rely on him as one. If you want a man who respects you then show him respect first.

But if you want a child or a dog, well, you know what to do.

Meet Brie

Brie is a thirty-something (sliding ever closer to forty-something) wife and mother. When she's not loving on her hubby, bouncing a happy toddler on her hip, chasing her preschooler, or teaching her six year old at the kitchen table, she enjoys cooking, reading, and writing down her thoughts to share with others. But honestly she loves nothing more than watching a great movie, or a hot bath, alone if the children allow. Which never happens.Read More…

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